New Beginnings
by AlterMe01
Summary: Post Rent: [Changed/added to Chapter4; along with Chapter 5. More shall be added eve of 6/25] Time away changes friendships. Shall be told from a couple perspectives. Humor/romance/angst etc. Shall explore some overdone relationships even more.
1. It begins

new beginnings

[Author notes-once again I do not own any of these characters and won't pretend to.  They are the sole property of the late, great Jonathan Larson.  This is the first of several chapters, although I'm still not sure where the story will go.  Comments are welcomed and much appreciated.]

It's summer again.  I don't know if that is necessarily a good thing or not.  The image doesn't change much either way.  The apartment that Mark and I shared is still an apartment, and another season wouldn't change that.  At least there is warmth in the summer, thus allowing me to move my fingers enough to play my guitar.  Summer should be bursting with life, but instead I'm surrounded by the shadows of lights playing off the skylight.  A feeling of indifference has completely overtaken most of my life-I've lost the will to care about quite a lot of things lately.  I spend most of my time fiddling with my guitar trying to find something; an inspiration, a song, sanity.  I never thought that once rent was paid, that I'd still find myself in such isolation from the rest of the world.

            I'm a hypocrite.  Here I am always criticizing Mark for hiding behind the camera, yet I do the same thing with my guitar.  Only instead of observing the world, I hide from it.  I try to write my bittersweet songs to fill the void inside, but it just seems to stretch wider and wider each day.  I have never been able to cope with loss- whether it's friends, family, or even myself.  It just never gets any easier-first it was my dad, then April, Angel, Mimi, and now Mark.

It's not like he has been gone forever, or I won't see him again, but I miss having him around; to pester me to leave the house, to take my AZT, or to have fun.  I haven't seen him in almost year, since he went to California to finish a documentary that he was filming.  When Mimi did, everyone assumed that Mark would change his plans-that he would be here to pick up the pieces.  I didn't know his reasons for leaving, but believed my reasons for him to stay were more important.  Time and again he's planned to come home, but each time something happens to delay it even more.  Who would have ever thought that little Mark Cohen would make a name of himself with his quirky but brilliant films or that they'd have such a large fan base?  He has been sending me tapes, writing, and occasionally leaving messages but it's not the same.  I haven't spoken to him until the day he left-I was too pissed that he was leaving when I needed him the most…

{Fade into day Mark left}

I don't think I fully understood the situation until I saw a small black suitcase and his camera equipment next to the door.  The phone kept on ringing incessantly; I didn't answer the phone but instead listened to the voices pleading with Mark not to go.  Maureen had called three times at this point, you'd think her and Mark were still together the way she begged him not to leave her.  They bicker like siblings, but she's the spoiled child that Mark always appeases-he is her lapdog and she didn't want to lose that.  Each phone call pissed me off more than the previous.  Who the fuck does he think he is leaving us when we need his friendship the most?  Mark had kept on assuring me that he would be back soon and that he needed to find himself.  But everything he said added fuel to the flame and I had to fight the urge not to punch the wall.

"What the hell is so great about there [California], that is so different than here?  Dammit Mark-I've seen all that shit and it's not worth the effort.  You'll never find a home like the one you've got now."

His blue eyes had changed to a shade of gray, and he averted my stare to look down at his scuffed up shoes.  My words hung in the air and his forehead wrinkled as he tried to find something to say.

"What Mr. Cohen has nothing to say for once in his life?  The one who never shuts his mouth?  That's funny-You are always telling us what we should do, but someone tries to tell you something and you clam up.  Fine! Deny your emotions again and hide behind your fuckin' camera.  I don't care anymore-just leave already won't you?  Don't know why I wasted so many years being a friend with a loser like you!  Take your damn camera and go- no one cares what happens to you in the first place.  You want to know why? Cause you're nobody.  NOBODY- you won't amount to nothing and no one will care, as you die a lonely death." I regret the words as soon as they left my mouth. 

With the impact of my words, Mark shrank back and hunched over even more.   He tried to hide his face but I noticed that he eyes had become glazed over and he was on the verge tears.  He turned away and slowly walked over to his bags defeated, but turned at the last minute and whispered, "You're right, I am a nobody.  The problem is that I care too much.  If this is a home and happiness, I'd hate to see what depression is like.  A camera may not be much, but it's all I got.   It doesn't hurt or ignore me, it doesn't always ask and never give back-it's omnipresent-it is MY friend not the reverse which is more than I can say for you."

The door quietly shut behind him and his footsteps echoed as they went further and further away.  I resented the fact that he could leave me with all this rage.  I kicked the table, watching as everything a top scattered to the floor.  Ignoring the mess, I picked up my guitar.  I played with such a hard aggression that two guitar strings broke and the sound defied me to act out any more. Slamming the guitar back on the table, I paced around the apartment fighting the urge to do something disastrous.  After an a couple of hours the phone rang and his voice came through the speaker, "I'm sorry.  I won't be gone that long.  Don't do anything stupid."

{Back to Present} 

I never realized how much I relied on him, for even the littlest things, until he wasn't here.  'God I can't believe I'm thinking about this shit. You need to get a life Roger.  You have always had other friends besides Mark-get yourself out and do something about it instead of fuckin' reminiscing about the past.'

The problem with getting out is all that comes with it.  I'd have to meet people and pretend to be interested when really I could care less.  Do they know what I've gone through? Do they relate?  They have no fuckin' clue what it's like to be in my shoes.  There have been very few people that I've trusted enough to get close to me.  There was my best friend in high school that told the whole school when I fooled around with a teacher after one of the bands' first performances.  Then April, who saw me at my best and worst but then left me alone with the realization that I had AIDS.  Mimi reminded me what love was but she left me too early when the virus finally destroyed her body.  And then there is Mark, of course.

            Mark always knew how to get through to me no matter how hard I tried to resist.  We met shortly after high school when he was just a scrawny blond at the club.  He had been taking pictures of the band for his college paper and ended up tripping over my guitar cord.  Needless to say the evening ended at the hospital, him with a broken wrist and me with a broken nose.  I'm never gonna let him live that one down.  We became friends and shortly after became roommates when my then girlfriend kicked me out.  Besides our token argument, the rest is history.  Mark probably knows more about me than anyone ever has or will, and he's the best friend a person could ever want.  'You're doing it again, Roger-Quit thinking about Mark.  The more you think about your friendship the more you miss him.' 

            Mark is coming home, that's all I know.  I got a tape from him several weeks ago along with careful directions on how to set the thing up.  He forgets that I've done this quite a few times by now.  The intro to the tape had clips along with narration from where he had been and what he'd done since the previous.  His grinning face appeared before me and if at all possible his hair was more disheveled than usual.  I'm still not sure if it's always messed up on purpose or if he just forgets about it, he has a habit of forgetting little things like that.

            "Roger you need to get your ass out of that apartment and find something or someone to do.  You still won't talk to me and I wish I knew why.  I tried to explain to you why I've left and know that deep down you have to understand-remember when you left for Santa Fe?  Everyone is telling me that you haven't been around- you aren't wallowing in self pity now are you?  I know you-isn't your libido calling for you to satisfy your sexual urge?  I'm sure you'll have no problem finding a random girl out there; girls always attach themselves to you like magnets.  And don't give me any of that AIDS bullshit either! Are you taking your AZT? God I'm starting to sound like my mother- you have no idea how much I miss New York.  Everyone is right, you do miss New York as soon as you leave, even if it is a hell whole.  I'd even go for a huge dose of Maureen and Joanne's fighting right now," he erupted in laughter at the thought of what he just said.  Grinning he goes on, "Actually, probably not but hey I'm desperate.  I'm just about to finish a film about media corruption and think I'll actually be home within the next couple of weeks.  Can you imagine, you and I once again sharing that apartment? I hope you got my "half" of the rent.  Benny said that this is the first time we've paid it for this long without him ever saying anything.  Maybe we should stop just to piss him off?  Got to go- tell Maureen that I didn't sell out and that she better not protest my return.  I can already see her in a damn rat costume.  I have so much to tell you and we have quite a few things to talk about- I hope you aren't doing anything like an idiot- See you soon." With that the tape ended with Mark goofing around in a park with that damn scarf of his.  Must not have realized that you don't need a scarf in the summer or he was just trying to be original.

            The next days pass in a blur, like life in general.  Yet with the news that Mark is actually coming home, brightens up this drab life.  I find myself alive with energy that I've been lacking; able to once again write songs; to eat and take my medicine without being reminded; more alive than I've felt since before Mimi faded away.  Somewhere in between Mimi's death and his imminent return, Mark has become my muse.  Can't help but wonder why…

{Several days later}

            Mark found himself with his face plastered against the plane window as his home came into view.  New York City- nowhere else like it on earth.  This will be my first time home since shortly after Mimi's death almost a year ago.  I only originally planned to spend several weeks in San Francisco, hoping to get away from the constant sadness of the city.  But somehow when I got out there, I found myself with job opportunities that I never thought possible.  Somewhere in all this mess I, Mark Cohen, became a drug to all the media whores.  How could I turn down all the money they were offering me?  I left the city on a bad note- fought with Roger- and I guess I've delayed going back because I didn't want to deal with him.  It's not like the job was a drab, I've had a great time traveling around and have met some interesting people.  Yet the feeling in the pit of my stomach has been telling me that something is missing; it has been gnawing at me since the day I left.

            As I stepped out of the terminal, the airport became alive with an energy that can only be found in New York.  Homosexuals, transvestites, prostitutes, panhandlers, drug dealers, and scam artists surround me as I grab my luggage.  God I've missed this.  The Rocky Mountains and rolling hills of the country may be amazing, but nothing can compare to the sight of the cabbies flicking off other drivers.  I find myself once again immersed in living in the city.  I can't believe I stayed away this long- I missed the city but the things I missed the most were my friends.  I've called Maureen and Joanne a couple times, but every single time I get Maureen on the phone she just lectures me about selling out to the media scum of the earth.  That woman still knows how to drive me crazy, god help me.  Last time I had talked to Collins he was erasing the credit card debt of anyone he could think of.  The construction of Cyber Art's is almost completed and Benny has been pressuring me to join the company.  That'll never happen.  I've asked everyone about Roger, but nobody really knows what is going on inside of that head of his.  Roger hasn't answered any of my phone calls this past year, but everyone says he's returned to the life of being a recluse.  After Mimi's death, it seemed like he quit caring about everyone, me included.

I don't know why everyone got so upset when they found out I was leaving, not like they were paying much attention to me beforehand.  Like usual- I was forgotten as everyone lived his or her lives.  Shortly before Mimi's death, a company offered me a job, but only if I could go to California.  I was so lonely and felt completely miserable so I jumped at the opportunity to get a change of scenery.  I was already committed; when Mimi finally succumb to pneumonia- it attacked her already weak body.  Everyone expected me to stay and take care of everything like usual, but I couldn't allow it to happen again.  They always need me when times are bad, but they all forget that I have problems too.  I wouldn't have been able to handle Roger's mood swings and the constant expectation to be stable old Mark.  The last thing that happened before I left, was my fight with Roger-why do we always fight over the same shit?  Only this time I turned into Roger and I ran-but I knew I'd have to go back eventually.  He was the one left alone this time; I doubt he even realizes our role reversal.  Maybe my absence will have made everyone realize how important I am to all of them, make them care for me in return … probably just wishful thinking though.

I grab a cab for the journey back to apartment, but about 10 blocks away I find myself telling the driver to let me out on a street corner.  I'm stalling, not sure if I'm quite ready to be thrust back into this life again.  I grab my equipment and luggage-not much to carry despite the fact that I've been gone so long.  Sunlight reflected off the black asphalt and makes the heat almost unbearable.  I can't help but smile as I see several kids trying to open a nearby fire hydrant- not much has changed since I left.

A familiar voice penetrates my thoughts. "Hey Artist-haven't seen you around much lately.  What you're not taping us for once?  Finally realize that no one wants to see a bunch of bums living on the street?" She is sitting on the street corner and despite her harsh question I can't help but notice the slight grin on her face.  I grin and attempt to respond but she interrupts with, "So Mr. Movie Man- you got a dollar for me yet?"

I chuckle at all the times she chided me for not having any money, "Screw a dollar, take five.  I've missed you too.  I can't really film while I'm carrying all this stuff anyways.  Don't worry though, I'll be back to my old tactics shortly I'm sure."

"Mister, I don't need your goddamn pity or your money!" Despite her protests, she still stuffs it into one of her pockets and waves me on.

            Before I continue on home, I realize that my stomach is starting to sting with hunger pains.  The Life Café beckons me from a block away and my feet have a life their own.  I open the door with such gusto that the bell slams against the cement, causing everyone in the restaurant to turn and look at me.  I grin sheepishly and go to my old table back in the corner.  The manager gives me a look of pure contempt and says, "I wouldn't even bother sitting down if you don't think you can pay." He must not have even noticed that I had been gone that long.  Was I that un-important of a customer?  Apparently there are other people in this city that dance on tables and never pay for their tea.  And I always thought I was so special, the way they always protested when I entered. Hmm-evil thoughts dance through my head-oh well.  An hour later, I leave with a full stomach and a caffeine rush from drinking 4 cups of tea.  I don't know why I'm so nervous, Roger can't be too angry after a year, can he?  God I hope not-he's not a person you want to be around when he is pissed.  I've seen too many people face the wrath of Roger and I would prefer not to be added to that list.

            The door to the building has a naked female spray painted on it, 'Cunt' was written off to the side along with an arrow for direction.  Stagnant air rushes all around me as I enter the stairwell, despite the several broken windows letting air in.  The light above me flickers and I check the mailbox, before proceeding up to the top floor.  Mimi's old door has a fresh coat of paint on it-Benny must have finally fixed it up for someone new to move in.  The stairs creak under my shoes and I find I'm standing in front of our door.  The 'You're Entering Our World Now' sticker has faded and started to peal, but other than that the posters on the walls and door remain unchanged.  I don't know if should knock on the door or just enter-why am I letting this bother me so much?  Closing my eyes, I force myself to take a deep breath.  I lapse into conversation with myself, "Roger! I've missed you so much- Hey, been awhile huh? - Hi Roger! - I'm home-July 22nd 4pm; reenter Mark who's just coming back from California, after being gone for a year. He has some great footage and he quit living a lie-Oh Hi! –Forgive me, please? – I'm sorry I left- It's been awhile, let's go get drunk- Oh my god what am I doing? -Please shoot me now." Why do I have to think through this so much?  Even when I finally say it, it will be on replay in my mind for days.

Ignoring all the voices in my head, I place my key in the lock and the door swings open.  The apartment looks the same except for being cleaner than normal. 'Ha-that'll change pretty quickly!' I step through the doorway, listening for any signs of life, but the only sound besides dripping of water in the sink is that of the street below.  I walk around the room lightly running my fingers across the surface of the minimal objects that we have.  I notice a guitar case on a chair in the corner and another sits on stand against the wall, nearby pieces of balled up notebook paper encircle the heat barrel. I walk into my bedroom and notice that it remains unchanged-the beds unmade, clothes scatter the floor along with the occasional water bottle.  So what if I've always been a little bit messy?  I place my things on the floor and unpack my favorite camera.  I take a walk through the apartment noting how things have changed-it once burst with energy, now the quiet is a little unnerving.  As I scan the room, I notice the answering machine light blinking with agitation. 

"Let's just see how popular of a person Mark is?" I narrate to the camera before pressing the play button.

"Roger! This is Maureen," the drama queen continues, "When is Marky coming home? Call us-we hardly see you any more!"

"Mark Cohen-Alexi Darling here, with Buzzline.  We're doing a piece on you, call us and set up an interview." God doesn't this woman ever take a hint?

"It's Collins.  Roger never picks up the phone-Mark call me when you're in town."

"Maureen again! Roger, don't forget to delete this before Mark gets home.  Do you think a shirt with anti-Mark stuff on them would be better or should I get a rat costume?" How did I know that she was planning something? She started speaking both into the phone and out, "But Pookie- you can direct this one.  Its just Marky, so what if we're friends? I can protest what he's doing and still be his friend. Fine, maybe I don't need you either! - Anyways…Roger call me!"

"Mark-sweetie-where are you?  You're father is sick; I do wish you would call him.  We all miss you so much!  Saw one of your segments last week on HBO-oh honey we're so proud! Call Me-Love Mom!"

"Mark Cohen-this is Kaitlyn, we worked on that project in Phoenix during April. Remember? Well I was just in town and wanted to see if maybe we could get together-Call me in room 5256 at the Plaza.  Hope to be hearing from you soon." I couldn't stop myself from laughing at her call.  Is it possible a girl chasing me? That hasn't happened since… actually it's never happened.  Things may be looking up after all.

"Dammit Mark! This is Maureen again-you should be home by now.  I really need your help.  I'm staying at a friends place-ask for Kitty and when she gets on the line ask for me.  And don't let her lure you into giving her your credit card number-she ain't worth $4.99 per minute that's for sure."

I have to admit; I'm slightly surprised that so many people had called for me since yesterday morning when the messages were last deleted.  The news that I was coming home must have spread like a disease.  Wonder where Roger is- I expected him to be here.  I am finally ready to face the inevitable and he's not here.  I sat around the apartment for a couple of hours just fidgeting waiting for him to show up, but the lack of sleep finally catches up with me.  My bed was calling to me for me to be used and abused.  Don't have someone to abuse it with-but I can certainly use it.  Because of the heat, I strip myself of my clothes until all that remains are my plaid boxers.  I set my camera on a tripod, focused it on the bed, putting it on a timer so it would quit filming after an hour before finally crawling into bed.  As I drifted to sleep, the last thing I remember thinking about is where Roger could be and what I'll say to him when I see him…

God-why is it that when ever I do leave the house I have to run into the scum of the earth?  He never leaves, I swear.  You'd think that since he married Allison, he'd want to associate with the fellow socialites.  But no-Benny has to come down to the village and pester all of us.  I almost punched him when he asked about life after Mimi, he had the audacity to ask if I was seeing someone new.  Who does he think he is? It's times like this where I could break a window or find a person that deserves to get the shit beat out of them.

            The street is surprisingly quiet as I enter the building-there is a lot more to do in the summer and many have moved out of their shanty villages in favor of more prime locations.  They'll be back when winter comes though, they always do.  My old dealer is hanging out on the corner waiting for his next sale; he can't risk changing locations because he would lose clients.  The damn light isn't working very well again and I fumble with the key in the lock.  I finally get inside, taking my shirt off as soon as I walk through the door.  This damn heat is starting to get to me.  I fumble trying to find a light of some kind, this is the first time I've left at night in awhile and I'm not accustomed to looking for things in the dark.  When I'm finally able to see, I can't help but wonder why there is a cup on the table and why there is clutter where there was none earlier.  I don't think I left stuff on the table, who could have stopped by? 

I think about it for several minutes before the realization slaps me in the face.  'Oh my god- It's Mark!  He actually came home.  Shit- what do I do now?'  I look around to see if he could be out, but I when I look into his room a path had been trodden towards the bed.  He was always a slob.  His camera sat up on a tripod at the end of the bed and next to it sat a pair of worn black shoes.  Should I wake him up or just let him sleep?  I sit on the couch for a couple minutes trying to decide what I should do.  On one aspect I feel immense relief that he's in the house, another I'm pissed that he left so soon after Mimi's death, but I'm also a little scared.  Not able to contain myself any longer, I stand up and stroll into his room making quite a bit of noise in the process.  Mark was always a real pain in the ass to wake, which is why I guess it is fortunate that he was the one usually waking us up.  The noises don't even faze him; he lays spread-eagle on the bed with his glasses in one hand, his eyes flicker in his sleep and has a smile on his face.  Damn, he even smiles when he's sleeping-how strange is that?

I kick his arm gently trying to wake him up but nothing happens.  I try poking his arm, but he just uses his other hand to rub his nose in his sleep.  Grinning, I find myself remembering how Maureen would yell something to him while kicking his arm to try waking his ass up.  "WELCOME BACK MARK! Get Your Ass Up!" I yell near his head while pushing on his shoulder.

He yawns, not really quite awake and asks, "What the hell do you want Maureen?"

"Maureen?  I'm afraid I'm not Maureen, lover boy."

To be continued…. (Don't exactly know where this is going)


	2. Normal Life

newbeginning3

[Author Notes- If you are reading the story according to chapters, you might want to re-read thru quickly to make sure you find everything ok- the chapters were becoming too short so I changed things around construction wise and added some to certain scenes.  How is everything coming thus far?]

            Mark rubbed his eyes and sleepily muttered, "Maureen, not now I'm too hot and tired to do anything right now.  Come back to bed- we can have some 'fun' later ok?"

            He was so groggy that he didn't even realize that the voice he assumed was Maureen's was very un-female.  This is just too funny, here I am trying to wake his ass up and he thinks I'm Maureen trying to get some action.  Mark's been known to talk to sleep and with very little effort you could get him agree to anything.  I know I should let him sleep, but I can't resist- I want to see how far he'd go by thinking Maureen was trying to wake him up for hot torrid sex. "But Marky-I want to play-just this once, please?" I imitate the way she talks when she wants Mark to do something for her; she gets all whiny and begs like a little girl.  And like a charm, Mark always falls victim to it.

            Mark looked like he was finally awake, but he still had not opened his eyes.  Instead, he swept his hand through his hair and released a long sigh, "Ok, ok-just this once.  Light some candles, find the handcuffs, and don't forget to get to grab the…" Mark just said handcuffs, who would have ever thought?  I try to contain my laughter, but it erupts before I can stop it.  "…out of my top drawer." Mark finally opens his eyes-obviously freaked to see me instead of a horny (ex) girlfriend.  "ROGER-What the fuck? Where's Maureen? Oh my god-there is no Maureen is there?  How long have you been standing there?  What exactly did you hear?" He rambles all his words together turning a bright shade of red, trying to recollect what he had told me in the past minutes.

            "Handcuffs, huh?" This brought on another fit of laughter that just made him even more embarrassed.  By now he had sat up and put his glasses on, but there was a gleam in his eyes saying that he wants to strangle me for getting his hopes up.  I, who could not just let this drop teased,  "And I always thought the ones that I kept on finding in the couch belonged to Mimi!  Does that mean the studded collar I found belongs to you too?  Geesh- sweet and innocent Mark Cohen into handcuffs and leather, who would have thought?  Now I know what to get you for your birthday in a couple of months.  Maybe that explains why Maureen still wears leather so much…"

            "Roger if you ever tell anyone-I'll…I'll…deny it.  Anyways it was always Maureen who was into that stuff, I just got dragged along for the ride," he stuttered to get everything out at once, but by the end he was grinning along with me.  I lower an eyebrow and look into his eyes.  While he was first denying it, my hand had been creeping around his back and before he could wiggle away I tickle the side of his stomach.  He leaned his head back and started to giggle while trying to squirm away, before finally revealing, "Yea, ok so I liked it too.  But I always did everything Maureen wanted me to-you know that.  Maureen is with Joanne now though, and somehow I don't see Joanne letting Maureen tie her up to bed.  I think Maureen is the bitch in that relationship, so maybe she likes getting tied up better now. Dammit-why did you have to do that?" His eyes were dancing and before long we were both laughing so hard that we started to cry.

            I couldn't resist teasing a little more, "You liked it and you know it.  Your mind registered 'sex' and suddenly you were awake.  Admit it-you were excited."

            "Of course I was excited- some of us don't have the luck with women that you do, Mr. Ladies Man.  I'm just an average guy and haven't gotten laid in over a year.  So sue me if I get a little excited at the thought of playing with Maureen- I need some action." 

            Mark finally stood up and stretched.  Realizing he was only in boxers, he grabbed a pair of faded jeans and pulled them on.  It wasn't until he was done that he looked at me standing there with a smug look on my face.  Grinning back at me he reached out and pulled me into a hug. "You have no idea, how much I've missed this place.  I hadn't heard from you at all and I was scared that you were going to attack me as soon as I walked through the door.  The rest of the country is great, but New York will always be home.  I shouldn't have left so soon after Mimi died, but if I would have waited any longer I wouldn't have been able to taken that job-and I probably would have never left.  I couldn't stay in this city being nobody, and it was the only option that I had at the time.  I was finally prepared to talk to you but you weren't here when I got in this afternoon.  I knew that I couldn't deal with anyone else without first making sure things were fine with you.  Boredom finally got to me though so short of hours of masturbation- sleep was the only option."

            He kept on talking like there was no end.  All my previous anger melted away and he had me laughing at the way he could talk about nothingness for such a long extended period of time.  I finally had to interject before he quit directing the conversation at me and began talking to himself. "Do you ever shut up?  I admit, I was angry that you when you left, still am I guess-It has been really hard without you or Mimi around.  But I missed you too much to be angry right now.  This place hasn't been the same since you left, that's for sure.  That phone hasn't quit ringing for the past couple of days, everyone wanting to know when you'd be home.  If I have to endure Maureen calling here one more time I'm going to throw that answering machine out the window.  She has called every single day this week checking to see if you're back-she's trying to stage a protest and needs help.  Her and Joanne had another fight.  She figures she can always get you, her slave, to help her with all the electrical and film it too.  By the way- where exactly is she staying and who is Kitty?"

            "It's a phone sex center that's all I know, don't know who Kitty is."

            "How do you know that it's a phone sex center?" I ask him with a grin.

            He laughs at this and turns red again before respond, "Don't ask."

            "Sure…" 

            "This wouldn't by chance be a protest about me would it?  Every single time I've talked to her, she has just lectured me about accepting taking that job," he grinned and his blue eyes danced behind his glasses. "Can't have Maureen destroying my new found professional reputation- I'd hate to see tapes of Maureen in compromising situations surface.  Wouldn't want the in-laws to find out just how kinky their daughters girlfriend is, now would we?" 

            I didn't really fully comprehend fully what he meant, until I saw the mischievous look in his eyes.  His face once again flushed as he burst out laughing. "Mark! All this time I just thought you liked viewing the world thru a viewfinder, making films about the complexities of life.  But now the truth has been revealed-all those times you left the apartment to film things, you were making amateur porn with Maureen.  It puts a new twist on why Maureen always liked to have an audience.  I always wondered who all those people were at her protests.  And we all thought you were so nice and innocent…" trying to complete my thought turned into an effort because I was laughing too hard.

            "I wouldn't necessarily call it amateur…Maureen liked to-wait why am I telling you this?" he giggles, "Let's just change the subject.  I can't believe how much energy I have right now.  What's happened since I left?"

            We eventually calmed down enough to carry out a normal conversation.  He gave me the run down on what all he had been doing since he left.  I hate to admit it but his time away did him some good.  Physically he's the same Mark; same blond messy hair, same blue eyes behind his glasses, still several inches shorten than me, same pale skin despite life in California, still the skinny runt.  But he exudes a confidence and a happiness that has been lacking for quite a long time.  The conversation eventually turns to what I've been doing for the past year.  For some reason I find myself revealing how scared, how lonely, how insecure, and how helpless I have felt.  But right now all those feelings have disappeared and I just enjoy the time we spend conversing.

            "Oh Shit! I forgot to call Kaitlyn!" Mark jumped from the couch and raced over to the phone.

            I think of all the girls that I know, but a Kaitlyn doesn't right a bell.  I ask, "Who's Kaitlyn?"

            "Kaitlyn is an actress that I used in a short film a couple of months ago.  When I got home today, she had left a message on the machine.  She wanted me to call her so 'we can get together,'"

"What's with you and all the actresses?"

He smiled at that and responded with, "I like to watch."  I double over in laughter and watch as he calls her and from his end of the conversation and the huge grin on his face, they make plans to meet the next week.

            After he hangs up the phone, I can't help but ask, "So what did she want?"

            His face turns crimson and he tries not to smile.  I swear he blushes more than any other person I've met in my entire life. "I've invited her over next weekend-hope you don't mind."

            His embarrassment is extremely funny to observe, especially after all the females that I've brought back here in the past. "No problem what so ever." I manage to get the words out before erupting in laughter once again.

            "Don't grin at me like that.  I told you I hadn't gotten laid in awhile…"

            I'm home-I'm really home.  I have told myself it over and over but it wasn't true until Roger woke my ass up.  I can't believe that he pretended to be Maureen.  Just what I needed, to wake up from a good sleep horny.  He learned more about my sex life (or lack there of) in those couple of minutes than I care, but I can't really change that.  I fully expected to have a really awkward meeting with Roger, so maybe it was the best that it happened the way it did.  It's better to start things off on laughter than resentment.  My stomach is still slightly sore from laughing so much.  It's strange because we haven't acted like this since shortly after Roger started dating April.  And, I haven't seen him this alive since before the drugs or her death.  He went from mourning April (and rehab) to being with Mimi; sometimes blissfully happy but others in complete misery and then she was gone.  Maybe he missed me as much as I missed him.  I still can't believe that I managed to stay away for so long.  The part of me that has been missing is friendship, but not just friendship with anyone but Roger.  He knows more about me than anyone in the world and despite all our differences he's my best friend.

            It is so weird-Kaitlyn wants to do something with me.  YES, WITH ME- MARK COHEN!! It's been so long that someone has asked me do something with them instead of for them, that I find myself giddy even a week ahead of time.  I've managed to deal with Roger tonight, but the rest of the world still waits.  I turn on my camera and find myself lapsing back into filming Roger mode.  "July 23rd, 2am Eastern Standard Time.  I can't believe that I've finally come back.  Close on Roger- with his guitar, trying to get his life back on track.  Fade in on black- then zoom in on Mark who acts like he's on crack- Life has continued to exist without me…"

            Roger looks up from his guitar enough to interrupt with, "Sure as hell ain't as much fun though…"

            "The cliché still exists-There is no place like home."

            "You can say that again.  Mark, do you know that you have this annoying habit of rhyming whenever you start filming?" I stick my tongue out at him and through the viewfinder I see Roger smiling before giving me the finger.

            "Shut up, Roger- play your guitar."

            "It's nice to have a fan again."

            The comforting sounds of his guitar drown out the sounds of the street below and our neighbors.  Before long, I find myself drifting to sleep, my camera pointed at Roger as the tape continued to roll.

{Next morning}

            The sun shining directly through the skylight destroyed all the great dreams I was having.  If it had only delayed five more minutes, I would have a great day with my whipped cream fantasies-but no such luck.  Despite the abrupt ending of my dream, I woke up with an immense feeling of satisfaction and contentment.  Sometime during the night I ended up in my bed-thank god because the couch is very uncomfortable, speaking from past experiences.  I left my room and entered the other room to find Roger sitting flipping through a guitar magazine.  I should have known he was going say something because he looked like a kid trying not laugh.  I instead chose to ignore it-he didn't.

            "So lover boy, how'd you sleep?  Did Maureen let you get any sleep or did she want to 'play' all evening?  Just to let you know, you might want to clean out that top drawer of yours, girls don't like to see another woman's toys in their guys drawer" by now he was doubled over laughing.

            "How did you? Nevermind…May I remind you that it was you who continued the game, when I thought it was Maureen was trying to wake me.  You don't wake a guy up the same way his ex did, ask him to play, and not expect him to react the way he did when they were together…" I tried to reason it out but my attempts to explain myself were just digging me in a deeper hole. "Can we just forget that whole little incident-it never happened ok?"

            "You expect me to forget something like that?  Hell no-that was probably one of the funniest things I've ever seen in my entire life.  I'm half tempted to share this story with everyone else; this is something that everyone deserves to know." He grins in response but I know that he's just fooling around.  Turning serious he goes on to say, "By the way, your mother called.  She said to call her when you can, that she loves you and to remind you about a cousin or something like that's bar mitzvah.  She asked me if you were seeing anyone new-told her your dumped your right hand for the left." 

            "How come all our conversations have something to do with sex?"

            "You've been gone for a year-we're making up for lost time."

            He's probably correct, but I still don't think I've ever been this flamboyant about my personal life ever before.  I went from one extreme to the other.  I couldn't talk about this stuff before, now it's all I can talk about.  My stomach chose that moment to make its presence well known. "Dammit! There is nothing to eat in this house!"

            "Is there ever?" Roger retorted.

            "No, but I had hoped that it had changed,"

"There is always extremely stale chips or mint tea."

"No, that won't help," the hunger pains were becoming a force to be reckoned with.  "Hey Roger, let's go get something to eat.  If we don't leave soon I'm going to be tempted to raid my candy bar stash." 

{Later-}

It's weird because when I left Benny thought I was such a slacker, but then I leave for a little while and suddenly he's begging me to come work for him.  He stopped by to offer me the use of his newly completed editing and sound rooms.  I know what he's doing- he wants me to realize how convenient the place is so that I will want to work for the company.  I have to admit the rooms are amazing-Benny went all out buying top of the line equipment-but he was always really flashy.  I may have sold out to some of the media whores, but I will not let Benny control my career.  While showing me the building, he got four phone calls-three of which were from Allison, his wife.  I never thought that Benny 'the player' would be placed on a leash, but boy is he whipped, probably has welts to prove it too.

I had lunch with Collins and Joanne yesterday afternoon in a fancy restaurant up town.  I don't know what made them choose that restaurant but it was a hell of a lot of fun making a scene.  There we were with these guys in penguin suits standing around the tables waiting on our every whim.  I caught many of them looking down at me with disdain-maybe I should have worth something other than my ripped jeans and Roger's KatScratchKlub t-shirt (it somehow managed to find its way to my drawer and was the first thing I put on), but the image was pretty funny considering how much money was being spent on the meal.  I had to fight the urge not to jump on the table and start singing-but I did manage to mention Sodomy, S&M, masturbation, transvestites, and lots of other fun words whenever the guys were within earshot.  Joanne and Collins both tried so hard to keep straight faces and not get involved, but with my antics they weren't able to control themselves.  Though I did feel pretty bad when a young waiter dropped the tray of food he was carrying, he must of heard us talking about the upcoming drag show that Collins was judging.  It made me feel special when Collins and Joanne both told me how much they missed having me around.  Apparently life has been pretty tame since I've left-strange considering I always thought my friends were the ones that corrupted me. 

It's weird to think that you can leave for a whole year and come back a different person, but find that little had changed in your absence.  Since I came home three days ago, I've dealt with everyone that I left behind except Maureen.  After the incident with Roger, I don't think I can handle being around her.  Why did someone with her body have to be lesbian?  That was pure evil on someone's part-making the one I loved dump me for another female.  Doesn't do a lot to a guy's sexual confidence.  'We will not think about Maureen today.  You have been over that woman for a couple of years, Mark.  You have to get that into your _other_ head.  Think of the amazing Kaitlyn, with her long auburn hair, green eyes, and amazing smile.' I figured if I repeated my mantra in my head enough times, my body would finally begin to listen.  Hasn't worked yet, unfortunately…

The city itself didn't change in my absence, but I am finding that I'm seeing it another light.  Everyday sights that I had filmed thousands of times before suddenly appear new and mysterious.  I know that it is me that changed though.  I left the city a broken man in search of happiness, and have returned with a confidence and sense of humor that I thought I'd lost.  But something this great can't last forever, and I'm wary of what may bring it crumbling to the ground.  I can't think about that though, if I do I'll lose everything I've gained.  The feeling that I revel in the most though, is being needed as a friend, instead of Mr. Fix-it.  Roger and I are really friends again; both of us have found an inspiration for work.  I told him that his friendship was my inspiration and how much I appreciated everything that he'd ever done, for all my bullshit he has withstood.  In true Roger fashion, he told me to shut my mouth.  He told me I was distracting him while he was trying to write a song- God it's great to be home. 

Life has changed so much the past couple of weeks.  I've gone from hiding in the apartment alone not writing any songs, to having so many ideas and lyrics racing through my head that I am having a hard time keeping track of all of them.  Mark has been running around the apartment with his camera so much that I finally asked him if he was on speed.  His energy is never ending, but he told me I was the same way only with my guitar.  I know that his return is what prompted this writing spree.  But is it because absence makes the heart grow fonder, or did he always have this effect on my writing?

I remember that shortly after we became roommates I found myself writing tons of songs that weren't there before.  It was that way for over a year, but then April entered the picture and the only way I could write a song was if I was fucked up.  April's death left me without hope in rehab.   It wasn't until I realized how much Mimi meant to me that I was able to write a song worth singing.  It disappeared, though, when she died, and it has just now returned.  The entire time in between April and now, my friendship with Mark was disjointed.  I mean we were friends but my attitude pushed him away, even though he was always there trying to break through my shell.  I'd usually just ignore him or we'd get into a fight, but no matter what his devotion never wavered.  Hell-I wasn't even there for him when Maureen dumped him or after Angel's death.    If I wasn't able to write any songs without him around, I can't imagine what kind of hell he must have gone through.  When Mark was leaving he said something about his camera being the only friend he had ever had, how can I change that?


	3. Changes

[Author notes- Rent belongs to the late, great Jonathan Larson; the story that I've created after the fact is the property of my twisted mind.I have some really messed up things planned for the next couple of chapters- some of you shall be pleased, but I am always open for suggestions of where the story shall lead.The lyrics near the end of the chapter come from songs by Anthony Rapp.I couldn't find the exact ones on the internet but I think they are fairly correct. Comments are very much appreciated.]

In the most surprising thing that occurred since I came home, it took Maureen a full week before she came to visit.But she did call, I just 'arranged' never to be home when it happened (thanks to the wonderful invention of the answering machine).I knew she would finally catch up with me though.

"MARK? ROGER? Is anyone home?Open the door!" her voice called from the doorway.Couldn't she just knock on the door like a normal person?She calls for a minute before all is quiet again.Is it possible that she left, thinking we weren't here?Unfortunately just as I go to finish sorting footage of my friends, Maureen struts into the room and stands there with a smug look on her face."I knew you were here."

"How did you get in?" I ask her, quiet surprised to see her standing before me.Especially, since she was wearing skintight black pants and a sparkly silver top.Despite the skimpiness of the outfit I have had no reaction just yet there is hope.

"Still had a key.It's my favorite person-my Marky- I've missed you so much!" 

Maureen is such a terrible liar-she always clenches her jaw-and gets this goofy grin on her face.She comes closer and gives me a hug. "Hi Maureen.I've missed you too.Ok, that's enough of that." I mutter pushing her away, "What do you want?And just to remind you I'm not 'your Mark' much less 'your Marky.'I hate that name, quit using it already."

"Sure, whatever… What I can't visit you without having an ulterior motive?I haven't seen you in a year and you think I want something from you.I'm hurt.That you think so badly of me."

"Get off it-you're not hurt.When don't you want something from me? Let me rephrase that, when Joanne isn't available, when don't you want something from me?"

"Maybe I do want something from you…" her animated face gets a look on it that has 'come hither' written all over it, causing me to burst into laughter.This pisses her off and she stomps her foot and looks agitated.

"Come off it, Maureen.This is an old game you're playing- I know all your tricks.Still haven't gotten back with Joanne I take it?"

By now I am done sorting my tapes and gingerly take a box out of the corner.I lift the lid and bring out a new toy, a brand new digital video camera.It's so small in comparison to the cameras that I've grown accustomed to.I look back up at Maureen and notice how depressed she'd become since I mentioned Joanne.

"She accused me of flirting with her cousin on her parents anniversary.She didn't believe me when I told her that I didn't even smile at her cow of a cousin, much less flirt with her.I miss her so much, but I'm not going to go back to her, she's going to have to come crawling back to me this time.New camera, huh?I thought you'd never go digital?"

"I'm just trying something new.I know you just got here, but I really have to be somewhere in a little bit.Can we get together later this week?"

"I just want to know if you can help me this weekend with my protest.I don't have anyone to do my sound and electrical work- you know how terrible I am with that kind of stuff."

"What are you protesting this time?" I ask, hopeful that it's not me.

"How the police are targeting the prostitutes on Avenue A.," she retorts with a grin on her face.

I can't help but laugh as I respond, "What you finally get ticketed for it or something?" 

This doesn't make her to happy and it looks like she wants to slap me. "Ha ha, very funny.Doesn't look like you're working on anything at the moment. Can you please help me, just this once? Please Mark?" God why does she have to beg?

"I don't know if I can-I have plans this weekend.And for your information, the meeting I should have left for five minutes ago is another project that I might get."

"What do you have to do that's more important than me?" she has a pained expression on her face like I just broke her heart.Help me, someone?

"Her names Kaitlyn and I don't know what we're doing yet exactly so I can't make plans to help you when our arrangements aren't definite."

"Mark has a date?Has hell frozen over?Is she a mutant or something?When can I meet her…."? I knew something like this would happen.Why does Maureen always know how to push all of my buttons?

" Oh shut up Maureen…."

Everything is passing by me with such a blur.Between hanging out with Roger, Kaitlyn, and work I haven't had much time to myself lately.It's weird because for a long time I'd have hours to ponder my place in the world without having any responsibility, but now I have someone that cares for me and work but feel lost within myself.Instead of being able to cope with this stress, it's growing more with everyday, especially since I find myself faced with deadlines yet again.All the voices just slur together, "We really need that film Mark." "Can you pick up the pace just a little?"; "We need it tomorrow-no questions asked."; "Anyway we can see a rough concept?"; or "This isn't one of your artsy films Mark, you're working for a serious news corporation that has deadlines-is this a foreign concept to you?"If I just breathe deeply and remain calm, I can pull through this. 'Come on Mark, you can do this.'I'm strong enough- my self-confidence won't fade-I'm someone special- people care for me-I'll take a break soon-stay calm-you're good at this stuff-don't panic-I'm a success-I can do this-I'm afraid.

Why is it that when I finally have everything that I thought I wanted, that it's not as great as it seemed before?Why do people who seem so vibrant in person become a dull blur when captured on film-their faces cloudy and pale in comparison to the vivid backdrop?Does this mean that my image of the world is distorted or does the world corrupt my reality? Why is it that when I finally find someone to care about me, I long to be alone or have something more?Why do I have to question my existence at every opportunity?

The bubble of joy has officially burst I guess you could say.I can't even explain why everything has changed, but the elation I felt when I returned has become a void.Instead of accepting all of this success without comment, I find myself lamenting over every single moment.I'm not even sure if anyone notices that things have changed.My friends have all resumed living their lives and it seems like they forgot I even exist.At least before they thought of me as a caretaker and came to me for assistance.When I left I forced them to live their own lives, and they realized they didn't even need me in the first place.My plan, to make them realize how important I was to all of them, has completely backfired.I guess it was true all along; they really don't need me. I can hear their voices say, 'Hell, if Mark doesn't do this for us then why do we bother having him around us in the first place?It's not like he is useful for anything else…' They are all so wrapped up in themselves that they probably can't see that my exterior happiness is just a façade.It's a façade that I've perfected over the years and it has a strong shell- but inside I'm screaming for help, for someone to care.

Despite my success with work, my personal life is just screwed up.For the past several months I've been seeing Kaitlyn, but can't exactly remember why.When I first looked at her, she excited me beyond belief, but now that she's mine she bores me.I always prided myself for treating my women like goddesses, but that enthusiasm is just not there with her.I just don't feel that spark with her-there is no passion to make the relationship fun.I need to let her go, but can I cope with being alone again?I think I'll finally tell her how I feel next week, after the premiere of her new play.I know she's going to have a hard time accepting this but I can't string her along like this any longer.Added to my confusion with her, I have been having some really strange feelings lately that I have been trying to ignore.Weirdly enough- I, Mark Cohen, find myself attracted to a guy that I saw Roger practicing with.Me, who always vehemently defended my heterosexuality find myself attracted to another guy.I don't know what exactly what this means, but maybe if I ignore it long enough the feeling will just disappear.I can't let anyone know how I feel because I don't even understand it myself and don't think I could handle their questions along with mine.

I joined a new band.I played some songs for these guys that placed an ad in the Village Voice.I didn't expect much but was surprised when they told me I have the sound that they've been missing.They are: Jude, a bass player who has a real ditz for a girlfriend, Matt, plays the guitar and will be doing back up vocals, a crazy keyboardist who goes by Shadow, and Dave, an amazing drummer.We haven't decided on a name yet but we from our practices we sound decent.I'm brought a bunch of songs for them to hear and we might just be able to make them work.It's strange to be this productive in such amount of time.Maybe I'll finally find that glory that I've been searching for my entire life.

I'm happier than I've been in a long time.Friends have become a regular part of my life again.Surprise- Roger Davis, Mr. Somber himself living a carefree lifestyle.Wouldn't have ever imagined that this would have happened.The loft isn't as dreary as it once was, and I don't feel so alone when I'm there.Maybe it's because it shows all the signs of Mark's return; random water bottles, used tapes of film, clothes, plates of half eaten food.How can someone that's so meticulous about his work be such a slob in his everyday life?It's been several months since his return, and despite the fact that he's not here much; his presence is still felt though.He's been in a frenzy working-he's been getting so many job offers that I told him he needed to get an agent or something so they'll quit calling.This weekend he's in Pennsylvania with _Kaitlyn, _for the opening of a play that she's in. 

_Kaitlyn_, the woman just never quits.You'd think that she'd have some flaw, but I've yet to see one despite the fact she's always around.How can you like someone so perfect?I swear she just stands there, smiles at Mark following him with puppy dog eyes.For being an actress, she's the exact opposite of Maureen; she's always there, loving, always nice, never complains, it's like she is at church and Mark is the object she worships.Someone like that isn't fun in a relationship, hell it's not a relationship-I don't know what it is though.You have to have a spunk in relationship to keep the passion alive, but all I've seen thus far of them together is hero worship from Kaitlyn and Mark with an occasional smitten grin on his face.Mark has terrible taste in women- I can't see what he sees in her or if he sees anything in her at all.I can't help but notice that he pays her hardly any notice, which is a complete 180 for him.When he is around it seems as if he is if he is contemplating a very important decision.Ever since I've met him he's tried to hide how he feels, but his eyes always reveal the truth.I know something is going on because the glow in his eyes has been gradually fading away and there is a sadness radiating from them now that I long to change.I want to ask him what's going on but I know it's none of my business; I just want to know why he's been so quiet lately and how I could change things.It's great just having him around, but I really wish he'd open up to me or at least tell me what has been bothering him.I miss all the conversations that we once had.I guess that's what he has Kaitlyn for though, to share his thoughts and life with-not me.Why does this make me so sad?

The distant shrill of a telephone wakes me.I force myself to rise, startled as the sun blares into my eyes from the sun overhead.That sunlight is really starting to piss me off.It wouldn't be so terrible if it didn't shine directly into my face while I slept.I fumble with my glasses and a pair of shorts before heading into the living room.I make myself a cup of tea, trying to allow my body to wake up when I notice a note scribbled to the fridge."Mark- At practice until late tonight.If you get a chance you should stop by.Kaitlyn called again wanting to know if you changed your mind about not wanting to see her again.Hell, She sounds exactly like how you used to sound when you called Maureen. Pathetic really…Put her out of her misery already, if she calls one more time begging for you to call her I'm gonna cut the phone line.See ya later- Roger" 

This is the first time in almost a year and a half that I've allowed myself time off.Yea, my camera may still be an extra limb but at least I filming things I want to film, not what 'they' tell me to film.Maureen was right all along; I did sell out to the media corporations in exchange for money.I just wanted to prove that I could be successful at something for once, and it worked.Maybe now that I have some money saved up, I can actually get back to filming for myself.Nothing makes any sense, especially relationships.I managed to finally tell Kaitlyn that I didn't care for her in that way, but she can't accept this despite everything I tell her.I understand her thinking- I thought the same things when Maureen left me for Joanne, but I honestly don't care for her that way.Doesn't she see this when she looks in my eyes?Everyone always says they can read my every thought and emotion through my eyes, yet she can't see the truth.I'm not sure what exactly I feel at the moment, but I'm sure it isn't for her.I'm so confused by all this stuff, but I'm just going with it for now.

I spend several hours just loafing around the loft, writing in my journal and listening to the radio.The station is doing a special on this musician, Anthony Rapp or something like that who's in a show uptown.I listen to the catchy songs and hear him discuss his life, unable to focus on anything except the sound of his voice coming through the radio:

"Nobody can share my troubles, this I know.And let me tell you that I've learned a lesson; here I go.Don't you know, it's just as sure as the rising sun?Don't you know to tell the truth is lesson number one?"

Every single song mirrors my every thoughts, emotions, and insecurities. 

"I'm up here on my own, again.I'm always on my own.They don't know anything at all; they see just what they want.Can't they see that I'm not really here, I'm back here with you?"

His voice seems to be directed entirely for me.

"If you want to know the truth about my life it's a mess, it's a mess, it's a mess, it's a mess.If you want to know the truth about my life I confess, I confess, I confess, I confess.If you want to know the truth about my life it's in disarray.I wish you met me earlier than today…It's a sham, it's a sham, it's a sham, it's a sham…where did my friends go?Where did my friends go? Where did my friends go?"

For the entire hour my life gains a focus, but it disappears as soon as the segment ends.I scribble down the information of where to meet the guy down on a piece of paper.Throwing clothes on, I leave the apartment with a determination to find some answers about myself, not even sure what I'm going to say to him when I get to the theater.Maybe he can just give me direction in this whole fiasco.Maybe he can help me sort out what exactly I'm feeling…

[A little later]

I lean propped against a building waiting for the stage door to open as the cast leaves.When the taxi dropped me off, it took me several minutes to figure out exactly who and what I was looking for, but after questioning quite a few people around the theater I finally have some clue of what I'm looking for.They all probably think I'm crazy- a guy standing outside of a theater in the middle of the afternoon wearing a sweater, even though it's the middle of December and raining.But at this moment, I could care less.Finally the door opens and gradually people began to file out, each making gracious comments to the hoard of fans pleading for their attention.It takes a little while but I finally detect the guy they call 'Anthony' talking animatedly to a group of girls.Even from the wall, I can hear clips and phrases of the conversation-something about a guy named Jonathan.I observe from a distance waiting for the opportunity to talk to him, trying to figure out what I am going to say to him without seeming like an obsessed fan.What the hell am I doing here?His blondish-red hair was tousled all over his head and wide grin on his face, calms my fears for some reason.Maybe this won't be so terrible…

After an eternity of waiting, the girls finally leave his side and he looks hesitantly in all directions as if to see if anyone else requests his attention.It is now that I finally make my move, slowly approaching him until I'm standing directly behind him- I go to tap him on the shoulder but he turns around before I get the opportunity.Damn, I didn't expect that.I find myself at a loss for words for several seconds before finally stuttering, " Uh hi- you're Anthony Rapp, right?"

"Yes I am!Who are you and what can I do for you?" his eyes dance before mine and help to ease my insecurities.

"I'm Mark.Mark Cohen.To be perfectly honest, I don't know exactly why I'm here.I was sitting in my apartment today, pondering my pathetic existence, when this radio station ran a segment on your music.I listened to the entire show and your songs spoke to me for some reason or another.Before I knew it exactly what I was doing, I found myself here waiting to talk to you.So here I am- but now I find myself at a loss for words.Added to all of this, I feel like an incredible ass right at the moment; so if you want to turn around and walk away right now I would perfectly understand." Please just turn around and walk away, before I make an even bigger fool out of myself.Why does this stuff always happen to me?All he has to do is turn around and I can forget that this ever happened.

Instead of appeasing my inner thoughts, he gets an even bigger smile on his face and erupts into laughter.So he can laugh at my stupidity, huh?"I'm so sorry-I just can't help laughing- you have no idea how much that sounds like something I used to say.I'd really like to talk to you but I have to do a few things at home before the next show.Could you maybe meet me somewhere…" he looks down at his watch and bites his lip before continuing, "say in an hour?" 

"No problem.Where?" 

"You know that new little deli in the West Village?It used to be an adult film store but it closed down last summer. It has a huge flower shop next door with dead cacti out front; it's pretty hard to miss.Know what one I'm talking about?"

"Ok.I remember the place.So I'll see you in an hour then…"   



	4. A night out

[See chapter 3 notes

[See chapter 3 notes.Sorry that the story is progressing so slowly.I've been extremely busy and haven't been able to work on it as much as I would like to.I've been stalled on where things should continue for the rest of the story so sorry.I'd like to thank Kait- for her suggestions and anyone else who's helped.At this part of the story Mark's sexuality and relationship with certain characters are going to be questioned.The song near the end of the chapter is Rufus Wainwright's 'Instant Pleasure' all other lyrics belong to me- Comments and suggestions are much appreciated.]

"December 21st 9pm, Eastern Standard Time.I can't believe things have gone so fast.Zoom in on Mark Cohen- who used to be the biggest fraud of this past century- but he's trying to quit hiding behind this farce.Yes it's true…it's true.But I finally have a clue what I'm going to do!Now if only it'll all pull through…scan across the stage-where a band's set up.Enter Roger Davis, playing his heart out to an audience of a couple hundred.Does any of this really mean anything?Will I ever know?Guess it's time to go…" I comment as I turn off my camera.It was really hard to stay focused on an object when you have loud music and people crowded around you.

This is the bands third or fourth show- and I do have to admit, they sound great.I haven't been around Roger too much the past two weeks, I'm still unsure of how I'm going to tell him I'm gay.Gosh, I'm gay- that so sounds strange to come from my mouth- I never really thought about guys this way but it makes a hell of a lot more sense than anything else I've ever done.In the back of my mind I can hear my father screaming at me to put my camera down before I turned into, "Another fucking fairy like your cousin Jake.You don't want to be a pansy do you Mark?Why don't you get involved with football or basketball?Anything has to be better than you running around that theater with the rest of those queers." It was his constant banter for being 'artsy' that made me get involved with track.And it was track that eventually led me to Brown- ha, kind of a vicious circle huh dad?I finally do the 'manly' thing you want me to, go to college only to get a degree in those arts you so despise.Look at me now-

For once I'm following what my heart is telling me, even if it is something that I didn't think possible mere months ago.Maybe I always felt this way, but pushed the feeling away in place for the accepted 'norm' of women.What is normal anyways?Some of my friends know now- I don't know how he does it, but Collins knew before I could even tell him.The day after I met Anthony, he stopped by the apartment.He sat down on the table, watched me shuffle my feet avoiding contact and he just burst out laughing.I didn't even have to say hi or anything- when he finally got himself under control he managed to ask, "You're gay aren't you?"

My voice squeaked and I know I must have got a completely shocked look on my face, "How do…. how do you know?" thank god Roger was practicing, or I'm sure I would have died right then.

"Trust me- you'll learn to pick up on these things.When did this happen?This is so fucked up-who would have thought, my friend Mark Cohen, the guy with a permanent hard-on around any female, gay?Damn…does Roger know?" 

"I'm just realizing myself…don't know how I could/will be able to tell Roger…If you figured it out this easy, do you think Roger knows?"

Collins shook his head and proceeded to give me an earful about 'Life as Homosexual, according to Dr. Tom Collins'

At least Collins and Joanne support my decision, Maureen is another story… Several days ago I had lunch with her and Joanne at a little café near their apartment.They are currently back together.I have come to the conclusion that the only reason they fight is because they like the making up so much.God, if I have to watch them sucking on one another's tongues one more time I'm going to gag.Well we were sitting there talking about-take that back- I was sitting their zoning while they were arguing about a custody battle between two lesbians, when Maureen interjected with, "Mark, what do you think?Shouldn't the woman who birthed the child technically get custody?" her eyes pleaded with me to agree with her or to change the subject. 

"What? Huh? I don't know…" I mutter, completely lost in what she was even asking.

"Mark, where you even listening to a word of what we were saying?" her face was getting redder and her voice a shade pitch higher than it was moments ago.  
"Maureen, when you guys are together I'm not included in the conversation much anyways.So I just try to block your voice from my head.Gives me moments of sanity." Joanne erupted into laughter at my comment, and we shared a knowing smile while Maureen quietly fumed.I went on to say, "I have to tell you though, that you're both quite amusing to observe…" 

After several minutes of Maureen's verbal attacks, I couldn't stand it anymore.Her voice wreaks too much havoc on the mind of any sane individual.I don't know how I managed to stay with her so long, or how Joanne manages to stay with her now."Will you just shut up?I need to tell you both something…" They both just stare at me from my outburst.

Joanne gave me a questioning look before asking, "What's wrong, Mark?"

"I'm gay."

"Holy shit…" I don't even know who exactly muttered it, but by the looks on their faces this was a complete and utter surprise.Even now, several days later Maureen's screaming still rings in my ears.The words 'lying bastard', 'fucking faggot', 'manipulator', 'pathetic asshole', and 'queer' still play over in my head.It was funny hearing those words from her mouth because here she is calling me all these things, but she forgets I went through the same thing when she dumped me for Joanne.I guess we all say strange things we don't mean- but that would almost be every single word out of Maureen's mouth....I can't believe she took it so hard, I mean she was the one that left me for another woman so why is it so strange if now I like men.After Maureen left in a rage, Joanne stayed and talked to me about it for over an hour.She was completely supportive and tried to apologize for Maureen's behavior-but hey it's Maureen, always the drama queen.I managed to convince them not to tell anyone else just yet though…I need to do this on my own.

The cheering of the audience brings me back to reality.I can hardly see the stage through prongs of people and cloud of smoke.Between the sweaty bodies, the cigarettes, too strong of perfume, and alcohol this place has taken on the stench that one could only find in a bar.Reminds me of why I don't like these places in the first place…First you got the girls in front of the stage with looks of hero worship on their faces, then the guys at the bar drowning out the world in their 5th or 6th beer, and of course who could forget the wallflower (me) pretending to intermingle with the crowd but just feeling awkward and out of place.Hell, the only way I can get anyone to really talk to me is if they know I'm friends with the band…

"This next song is a song about all the bullshit of my life, that I've put up with for so many years.I always had a 'woe is me' attitude blaming the rest of the world for all my problems, when it was me who made the hurt so unbearable.This is for my friends (you know who you all are) thanks for supporting me all these years, despite how much I've pushed you away…" his voice cuts through the audience. The crowd quiets and sways to the sound of the ballad, which seems out of place with all of their previous upbeat songs they've played.

_"Hide this anger-take my pride.Hide this pain so I'll survive._

_Take my anguish; all this strain_

_Forget my past and hope this feeling won't last…_

_If I can have just one more chance-_

_I'll reveal my soul-give it all_

_Now-now let me live,_

_one more day."_

I feel like such a fraud for not being able to tell Roger the truth.I've had the dress rehearsals in my mind, but nothing seems quite worthy of the final production.I have to tell him tonight… I can't continue hiding this from him; it's too hard to be around him without being honest.I eventually leave the bar, heading for the loft.It's Christmas time again; although my mother was extremely Jewish my father would sneak us out to the mall to get our picture taken with Santa.Christmas morning my father would always slip my sister and I several presents when my mother wasn't looking.Even though it wasn't much, just the small token from my father always meant so much to me- more so as I got older and became interested in things he disagreed with.It was then that the taunting began and I started staying away as much as possible.My mother is always begging me to come around or call more but why would I want to spend time with people belittle my existence, calling everything I believe in a failure?The cold winter night chills my hands and I rub them together trying to generate some heat to make the numbness go away.As I near my block, the liquor store on the corner beckons me forward.'heavy drugs- Wine and Beer - to marijuana!'Even I can have my weaknesses, just this once I'll drown out my conscious- Maybe drinking will give me some clarity… at least when I'm drunk I don't have to listen to the voice inside my head questioning every thought and motion.At this point, I just want to put him on pause and relax…

[A few hours later]

My boots echo on the stairwell as I head up to the apartment.We had such a great gig tonight- the crowd was really into the show, made some good money, had some fun while on stage, and even Mark came.If only April or Mimi could have been there to see me, they would have both have been so proud of me.At least Mark was there; he hasn't come to many of my gigs lately.I didn't think he'd show up tonight, he's been acting a little different the past week or so.Thank god he's finally managed to get himself out of the depressed stupor- but it's like he's been avoiding me.He hasn't really talked about his life much but I know something was bothering him.Maybe he finally has it worked out on his own- without having a typical Mark emotional breakdown.I wish he would talk to me though, because since Mimi's death I haven't really had too many people to talk to…When he came back, Mark became the only stable thing in my life-my safety net.But I know it all began before that, Mark has always been a huge part of my life even when I was with April or Mimi I always retreated to Mark when things got bad.I can't really explain it…it's just Mark- Even the brief time he was dating Kaitlyn, he was always there if I needed him.

I grab the door handle and walk into the room, but the blaring of music causes me to take a step back.Damn, wasn't expecting that to happen.I place my guitar on the floor near the door, but stop to listen to the voice blaring through the radio:

_"I don't want somebody to love me just give me sex whenever I want it_

_Cause all I ask for is instant pleasure, Instant pleasure, instant pleasure_.

You in the traffic for all eternity, have to go that speed be where you want to be Don't you really want to instant pleasure, instant pleasure, instant pleasure Think all these folks that pay, do it cause the pay is great 

_What you thinking anyway?_

_If drinking coffee is your idea of really cool, you can't expect any crazy chick to notice you_

_Just sitting there dreaming, instant pleasure, instant pleasure, instant pleasure_….

_I don't want somebody to love me.Just give me sex, whenever I want it_

_Cause all I ask for is instant pleasure, instant pleasure, instant pleasure."_

Now this is extremely interesting… Mark is listening to a screaming about instant pleasure, when all his life all he's moaned about is having somebody to love.He must be getting really desperate… maybe I should take him to a strip club or something.But that nagging voice in the back of my head, tells me that a stripper wouldn't help Mark much anyway…I turn down the music on the radio and approach the couch, noticing the empty beer bottles tipped over on the table.

"Mark?Are you home?"

It's this exact moment that Mark walks out of the bathroom- wearing a pair of plaid boxers and holding a fifth of Southern Comfort.Oh my- he the sloppiest smile on his face as he attempts to walk across the room but he ends up stumbling into the coffee table and couch in the process.When he finally speaks his voice is more lethargic than usual, "Roger! My best friend… I've missed you SO much.Great performance tonight."

If I don't help him, he's going to end up breaking something, I think to myself.I hate to see him get hurt, I guess I've always wanted to protect him from harm.So I go over to him and grab his shoulder to lead him over to the table.Instead of just using me for assistance he throws all his weight against me and basically I'm forced to drag him to a chair."I think you've had a little too much to drink tonight."

"Me, drink too much? Never!"

"Lush.What made you drink so much?" I ask laughing at the absurdity of Mark being so drunk, this has only happened once or twice the entire time I've known him.He always pestered me about partying too much, and he became the designated driver or sober one of the bunch.It's strange to see him lose his composure…

"Needed a little bit of 'liquid courage'.To forget my life, just for one night." He responded with a serious look on his face.

I press play on the blinking answering machine, muttering to myself, "Liquid courage, huh?What do you need that for?"

"Hey Mark! This is Anthony, haven't spoken to you in a couple days, just wondering what you're up to and how things are going.Josh and I were talking about going to that club sometime this weekend want to come with us?Maybe you can meet someone- Give me a call the next couple of days or stop by.Talk to you soon!"

"Roger, this is your mother.We miss you!Please call…"

"Hey Mark, who's this Anthony guy that keeps on calling?" I ask.

"Anthony's just some guy, just a friend…just a friend."

"Oh…Do I know him?" I ask but get no response.I finally turn back towards the table and look at him-sitting at the table with his head on his hands.The bottle of booze lies next to his hands and if I didn't know better I'd swear that he there was a straw in the bottle…He looked like he was going to fall asleep any minute."Hey Mark- did you get the mail today?"

His eyes open briefly- they are a vivid blue but have a glossed over appearance.He's going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow.His mouth opens and he mutters, "huh? What? No- I'm not- I'm-Come here…" before taking a deep breath.I pull my chair closer to his before tapping him on the shoulder.He lifts his chin avoiding eye contact and before I can react his lips are pressed against mine.The kiss was over almost as soon as it began and I knew my eyes must have been questioning what the hell had just happened.He gets a goofy grin on his face, looks me in the eyes and quietly states, "Hey Roger, I'm gay."With that his body goes limp, his head hits the table with a loud thump as he finally passes out.

What the hell? Mark just kissed me… Mark just said that he's gay…did I enjoy his kiss?

When did this fucking happen?

[More to come later- please review]


	5. Wakeup

[Author notes-sorry it took so long for me to update this story.I've had a really hard time deciding where the story should go, still am slightly unsure.I went back and added/changed some important things to chapter 4 go back and decide if you like the additions.Once again all these characters belong to Jonathan Larson but I decided to twist them to my own liking.If you don't like what I'm doing to them- you don't have to read the story.Comments and reviews are always appreciated.]

[Mark]

"Oh my god…" I groan as my body fights to stay asleep for a few hours more.There is a pounding in my head that gets increasingly worse as my body awakes.I slowly open my eyes only to be blinded by the harsh light of the sun.What the hell did I do last night?Everything comes back to me at once; Roger playing at the bar, stopping at the liquor store, turning on the stereo only to get royally drunk, Roger coming home, me telling Roger I'm gay…What the fuck?Holy shit- I told Roger I was gay… 

After several minutes of groggy muttering on my part, I finally force myself to move.My body groans and shifts screaming at me for sleeping in such an uncomfortable position.My arm grazes the bottles on the table and they clatter against one another as I try to prevent them from falling to the floor.How the hell did I get myself into this mess?On one aspect I'm glad that Roger knows the truth, but I know he's going to be pissed that I didn't tell him sooner.As I stand up, my bones crack and ache like a man my age shouldn't.Before I can decide what to do with myself, I feel that familiar taste rising up in my throat along with the distinct retching that comes along with it.I barely make it to the bathroom, before I make my tribute to the porcelain gods.The pain and burn in my throat stings like a bitch, and I fight like hell this shitty feeling inside.'It's my own fault for drinking on an empty stomach…' is the last thing that crosses my mind before I pass out once again.

[Later]

"Come on, Mark.You can't sit here with your head on this disgusting toilet forever." A voice says attempting to pull me up from the floor.Opening one eyelid reveals that the voice belongs to the one and only Maureen.Her face was masked with a slight grin as she pulled me to my feet.

"Hey Maureen." I mumbled, trying to make my feet cooperate with what my brain was telling them to do.The pounding in my head, had become several decibels worse if that's even possible.

I leaned on Maureen's shoulder as she helped me walk into my room, before laying me down on my bed.Flopping down on the bed, I now remember why I don't like drinking too much; damn hangovers are just too annoying.Closing my eyes, I rub my temples with my non-sticky hand attempting to relieve the pressure in my head."Oh you poor thing," she coos.Several minutes later, Maureen places her hand on my shoulder.Peering beneath my eyelids, I see her for the Angel that she is; PAINRELIEVER along with a huge glass of water.There is a god.

"What's this?" I ask, popping the pills in my mouth.

"Two Motrin 800's.It'll knock that hangover out of your ass.I managed to convince my doctor to prescribe them to me for my migraines and cramps.Marky, you look and smell like shit.What can I do to help?"After she gave me the medicine, she began to massage my temple.That woman is just too skilled with her hands, if I don't say so myself.

"I thought you weren't talking to me?Mmm…. don't stop." I moan, but still remembering that last time I had seen her she had been shouting obscenities 

"Well…I've been meaning to talk to you about that.IamsorrythatIcalledyouallthosenameswhenyoutoldmeyouwere

gay,butIcouldn'tbelievethatthemanIlovedforsolongsuddenlydecidedhedidn'tlikewomenmore…"she rushed out, so fast that all the words strung together.

"What was that, again?The only words I could really understand were I'm sorry, and I know from previous history that Maureen Johnson does not apologize."

"Shut up, Mr. I'm too drunk to get my head out of the toilet.I am honestly really sorry that I called you all those names.It was just a complete surprise.Well maybe not complete, cause the way you looked at guys sometimes was really creepy.But anyhow…I just couldn't believe that someone I was with for so long, suddenly wanted to be with men.Made me feel like complete shit, even though you aren't _mine_ anymore, anyways."__

"How do you think I felt, when you told me you wanted to be with a woman more than me?I mean, for months all I could think about was that I must have failed somewhere as a man for not being able to satisfy you… Is that anything like what you're feeling now?

"I guess…."

"But it's okay, I accept your apology.The feeling will go away after a little while.We all do stupid stuff quite often; it just seems to be a regular occurrence around you.Where's your other half?" I tease looking for Joanne, who always seemed to be in Maureen's presence around me.

"She's back at the apartment."

A smile broke my face and I asked, "What she let you come alone?She's not afraid that I'll ravish you and convince you that you really do like men better?"

"Ah, she doesn't worry any more now that you've decided you like playing for the same team too."

"Yea, well anyways…what has she been up to the past couple of days?"

"She's _working_.God help me Mark, I think I'm turning into a housewife.I don't even have time anymore to prepare scripts or audition, because I have to be there to support her._And god forbid, something I do messes up her oh so great reputation._I'm suddenly turning into a 'yuppie scum.'We're always getting invited out to dinner with the partners of her law firm, and we're meeting with the Senator next week.She mentioned something about them trying to convince her to run for office.Can you imagine- I'm Congresswoman Jefferson and this is my wife Maureen.I mean we'd be expected to attend campaign dinners, hang out with people like Benny; to support the mainstream for god sakes…" her face was all red and she had begun to pace the room, throwing her whole body into her rant.

"Maureen as much as I love you, the way I feel right now I really don't want to hear you rant about your love life right now."She stuck her tongue out at me and once again sat down on the bed.Her hand resumed rubbing my forehead as the throbbing finally started to ease.

There was an awkward silence for several minutes.I had no clue what to say next and who knows what was going on that little head of hers.Before I could ask about something stupid like the weather, Maureen finally spoke, "I can't believe that you're gay.I mean, what about us?Was I just someone to screw or did we actually mean something?"Her smile disappeared and was replaced by her familiar pout, as she questioned the motives behind our relationship.

"Maureen I loved you more than words could describe.Still kind of do in away… Nobody can ever take away what we had, but I just want something else right now.I am new to all this stuff…I just know the way I've been feeling when I look at certain guys.Gone is the 'he looks good, must get laid a lot' feeling and I now have the 'damn, I wouldn't mind getting with him.'

"Have you…you know?" she asked, gyrating her hips back and forth on top of the bed.

"God, Maureen!Don't get too horny now dear."I chided back

Her face got all red, much like the innocent girl that I first fell in love with, "Ha ha, Mark.I was just asking.I mean doesn't it…hurt?"

I can't believe she just asked me that.Now I know my face was bright red, as I tried to turn my face away before she noticed.But she kept poking me in the side, making me giggle.When I finally managed to get myself under control I spoke, "I wouldn't know…haven't done it yet.But I can tell you when I get that far."I burst out laughing again, at the shock playing across her face.

"Ewww…How do you know that you're gay then?I mean if you haven't tried it then how do you know you like it?"

"Don't have to buy the tool at the store, to know you know how to use it or that you want it…" before I could even finish my statement she was giggling like a schoolgirl. 

[more to this chapter will come tonight, 6/25.does anyone have any comments?]


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